


The Price Of Freedom

by detectivephryne



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Again not graphically though, And also some parental and relationship abuse, But it does describe some sex and violence (just nothing graphically), F/M, I didn't know what to tag this with, If there's anything specific that's triggering you and I missed it, Just let me know and I'll add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivephryne/pseuds/detectivephryne
Summary: Five times Phryne Fisher had paid heavily for her freedom, and one time she didn't have to.5 + 1 challenge that's mostly very angsty, but ends happily!All errors are my own. I tried to stay true to the timeline and context of the show as much as I could. Let me know if I got something wrong though and I'd be happy to fix. :)Hope you like it!





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains parental abuse and alcoholism, although nothing too graphic.

Henry Fisher had stumbled into their small apartment in the early hours of the morning. Broken glass and articles of dank clothing marked his path from the door to the couch where he had fallen into a fitful sleep.

Phryne and Janey woke only two hours later and, upon seeing the scene, rushed to pull on their threadbare dresses and worn leather boots so they could escape their dreary world for the day and avoid the ramifications of their father’s overindulgence.

Unfortunately, just as they were grabbing a bread roll each from the cabinet to last them the day, Henry groaned loudly and rolled over, clutching his beating head. Noticing his daughters were awake and dressed, he sat up and addressed them.

“Where do you think yer goin’?” he slurred.

“Out,” Phryne replied, grabbing Janey by the hand and walking purposely toward the door. He was still drunk and she had no patience for it.

Henry lunged out at them as they passed and caught on to the hem of Phryne’s last intact dress, ripping it along the seam.

“Get off me,” Phryne bit out, tugging the dress out of his hand.

“Yer gonna leave poor ol pop here alone?”

“Mother should be up any minute.” Margaret Fisher wasn’t a late sleeper, which was another reason Phryne knew they needed to make it out the front door now before their mother could contrive reason after reason to keep them inside.

Henry got unsteadily to his feet. “Ungrateful little…” he muttered as he snatched Phryne’s upper arm in a fierce grip. Phryne threw her weight away from him to free herself but it was no use. A nine-year-old was no match for a grown man, even one compromised by alcohol.

“Go outside, Janey,” she ordered her sister. “I’ll meet you at the corner.” Janey looked between Phryne and her father with wide eyes, and then fled the scene, the two bread rolls in her pockets.

Phryne leveled him with a gaze. “What do you want?” His grip on her tightened and his nails cut into her skin. “You can’t hurt me.” He had lost that power long ago. She didn’t care about him any longer. She could barely even muster sympathy for her mother. Janey was all she had and she could keep Janey safe; she always had. Her father was nothing to her.

Anger simmered within Henry’s eyes at his insolent daughter. His jaw clenched and muscles burned. Before he could register what he intended to do in his alcoholic haze, his hand had shot out and struck her across the cheek.

She closed her eyes against the surprise and pain of it, but made no sound. Henry immediately realized the mistake he had made and loosened his grip on her with his other hand. Phryne managed to push him away, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor in front of her.

She spun on her heels and stomped the rest of the way toward the door, only to have him grab her leg at the last moment, sending her tumbling to the ground. The shattered glass from an empty bottle sliced through her hands. She sucked in a sharp breath and kicked backward, freeing her leg.

Phryne hopped up and smeared the blood across the skirt of her dress, not caring what she looked like; her mind focused entirely on getting _away_. She didn’t look back as she finally grasped the door handle and ran outside, leaving her father and all her hatred behind her.

She squared her shoulders and tried to staunch the flow of blood as she made her way down the stairs from their apartment to meet up with Janey. She was Phryne Fisher and she would never, ever let her father stand in her way. She would fight for her freedom to roam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains teenage sex, although nothing graphic.

Janey was gone and Phryne’s whole world was filled with darkness. She felt a melancholy as heavy as the wet sheets her mother would have her hang out on the line. It smothered her and made it hard to breathe.

She tried to keep going; she needed to succeed in school and keep her job at the market on the weekends if she ever hoped to make it out of Collingwood and put as much distance between herself and her parents as possible.

She needed to do it for Janey. She whispered promises each night in the darkness of her room of all the places she would go and all the things she would do one day. She would live her life devoid of fear and full of adventure. She would live for the both of them.

But all the same, at fifteen, the big, wide future she’d imagined for herself still seemed far away and out of reach. It was a trial to make it from day to day, feeling nothing but guilt and despair. She wanted to feel anything else for a change.

Robbie Carlton worked the fish stand just across from where she helped old Mrs. Meecham with her fruit. He was a year ahead of her in school and quieter than most the other kids. 

She saw him watching her sometimes. That wasn’t unusual in itself; she did a lot that was cause for staring. But whereas other kids would cheer for her when she stood up to teachers or shout her on as she beat up a handsy boy in the courtyard, Robbie was always removed from the crowd, watching intensely with his head cocked to one side and his eyes considering her like he was trying to make up his mind about her.

Phryne had to admit, he made her curious. He was different and she liked anything she couldn’t explain.

It was a hot Saturday night in February when she finished up with Mrs. Meecham for the day and stalked across the dirt path straight up to Robbie who was washing the fish off his hand and hanging up his apron for the evening.

“You off?” she asked as she approached.

Robbie spun around and looked at her warily. She had never spoken to him before and she could tell he was intimidated.

“‘Til tomorrow,” he answered, trying and failing to keep eye contact.

Phryne jutted out one hip and considered him before her. He stood silently under her scrutiny.

“Any plans?”

“Just home to my family.”

“Would you rather do something more… well, just more.”

“With you?” Robbie’s eyes widened.

“If you can answer one question.” 

He nodded.

“Why’re you always lookin’ at me like that?” He opened his mouth to deny it, but she knew it was coming. “You know how you do.”

Robbie looked at the ground, at her shoes, anywhere but her eyes.

“Is it because I’m beautiful?” She knew she was that, if nothing else. It was the only positive thing her parents ever said about her. Not to mention the attention she got from men all over town.

“No,” he denied.

“You don’t think I’m beautiful?” she teased.

“No--no! It’s not that.” Robbie stuttered over his words. “It’s just-- you’re interesting. Brave. Um, fierce, I suppose. Beautiful is the least of it.”

Phryne raised her brows and smirked. It was the right answer.

“Do you want to be my first, Robbie Carlton? My parents won’t be home for hours.” Recently, her mother had been going out each night with her father. Phryne couldn’t care less why, but she suspected that she wanted to keep an eye on him. He was so much worse since Janey.

Robbie’s eyes widened, but he nodded all the same.

“Come on then,” she said, and headed toward home. He followed.

She let him in and took him back to her room. She didn’t know how it was done and frankly suspected he didn’t either given that he was standing pressed up against the wall like he was afraid to come any farther. So she took the lead. It was her plan, after all.

Phryne kissed him against the wall until she started to feel warm. He was grabbing at her all over, but nowhere too delicate yet. She broke away and pulled him over to the bed. His eyes were unfocused and she could see him tenting his trousers already.

“Strip,” she said, pulling off her own clothes at the same time. Once they were both naked she laid down on the rickety twin bed and guided him over her. He kissed her again, sloppily this time, on the mouth and neck and chest. She could tell he was ready and figured she may as well get it over with. She knew it wouldn’t be good for her this first time.

“Do you know how to use it?” she asked, handing him a french letter. He grabbed himself, rolled it on, and pressed against her until he was slowly going inside. It burned. She could feel pressure and tearing as he pushed farther and went in deeper. She gritted her teeth against the pain of it and tried to relax her muscles. It didn’t help, but she wouldn’t ask him to stop and she assured him she was okay when he asked.

Once he was in, he started moving and he didn’t stop. The bed creaked and bumped the wall. She closed her eyes tightly and let the waves of fire wash over her with each thrust. Not the good kind that she knew a woman could feel, but a powerful, stinging ache. It didn’t matter though. This was what she wanted. For the five minutes he lasted, she didn’t think of Janey or her family or her out-of-reach dreams. She thought only of Robbie and the throb inside her.

The next time, it wasn’t quite so bad. The time after that, she felt the first hints of pleasure. And from then on, she ensured each encounter brought her joy. 

Phryne Fisher was stuck in every sense of the word. There was nothing within her control. Not her mother or her father or Janey’s still unknown fate. But she could decide what happened to her body. That was hers to be free with. It was worth every bit of pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of war, although nothing graphic.

When fighting broke out across Europe, Phryne saw a new path to freedom. A way out, possibly for good. She signed up without telling her parents and was enlisted rather quickly all things considered. The war effort was in no position to turn down an eager and capable woman.

Phryne had not fully let herself consider what she was signing up for. She had no way to know, really. There had never been a war at such a scale before, and Phryne knew nothing of war regardless.

At first, she would have said it was almost… fun. They taught her to drive an ambulance and treat wounds quickly and effectively. She liked having a purpose and she liked being out on her own. The other nurses and medical personnel were kind and valued her contributions, which was altogether a novelty for an unwanted girl from Collingwood.

But it dragged on. The novelty wore off and the losses were harder and harder to take. More men died than lived under her care. By the time she got to them, they were usually more than halfway gone. She spent her time trying to figure out the right things to do and say so that a man wouldn’t feel so alone as he left this earth. She had to be everything to him in that moment: mother and wife and child and friend. Everyone he would rather have in front of him instead of her.

Everything around her reeked like burning flesh, sickly sweet and pungent. She was never fully clean no matter how hard she scrubbed. She rarely got a full night’s sleep between the work and her nightmares. She lost all of the much-needed weight she had gained in training; she was bone thin again from lack of proper nutrition.

In turn, she smoked and drank and slept with men every opportunity she found, which were surprisingly rare on a battlefield full of them. Anything to numb her senses from the onslaught of death around her.

_This was what she wanted_ , she tried to remind herself. But it was hard to feel like she was doing any good while surrounded by so much wrongness.

As the war came to a close and the armistice was signed, Phryne debated what to do next. Her mind flashed briefly to the home and parents she had left, but she refused to return there and fall back into her old life. After everything she had endured, she was determined to find a way to stay free.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains relationship abuse and alcoholism, although nothing too graphic.

Rene had been her golden ticket to a better life. He had loved her; he’d told her so often. And she had loved him deeply in return. She couldn’t help it. He had been her savior during a time when she felt increasingly desperate. Modeling was keeping her fed and clothed but only just. She wanted more in life and Rene promised it all to her.

Now, she wasn’t so sure it wasn’t a farce all along. The cuts on her face from the night before stung and the bruises up and down her arms and abdomen screamed in their soreness. She lay in their bed, afraid to move or breathe until she could be sure of where Rene was, of what he was doing and if his mood had changed. She’d learned this trick from living with her father years ago: as long as she appeared to be sleeping, there was a good chance she’d be left alone.

Of course, that only worked for so long. When another twenty minutes had passed and she heard no sign of Rene in the apartment, she stretched her aching muscles and pulled herself upright.

Today was the day. She had promised herself that last night in the heat of his rage. She would leave him and never look back. Surely there had to be something better than this out there. Something better than a life doomed repeating her mother’s mistakes.

She drew herself out of the bed and dressed quickly. She didn’t have many personal possessions that mattered to her, but she threw what she had in a carpetbag. Upon hearing the sound of clinking glass from the next room, she shoved the bag under the bed and sat down quickly, pretending she was enjoying a leisurely morning.

Rene entered the room carrying a tray of tea things, which he set down at the foot of the bed.

“You’re awake,” he observed. She saw him drink her in, and observed as anger flashed through his eyes. She knew what that was now. She used to think he was upset with himself for his inebriated actions, but she had long since come to understand that he never saw himself that way. He was angry at her for her perceived indiscretions, for her patheticness that caused such a punishment to be needed.

He would never change. People who could not see their own faults never did.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, because he knew it was the right thing to say.

Phryne met his eyes with a steely gaze. She was supposed to say it wasn’t his fault. That he loved her and only treated her this way for her own good. It’s what she would have said a month ago… two weeks ago even… or maybe two days.

“Me too,” Phryne said instead. She was sorry she ever loved him.

“I made tea. You should rest.” He handed her a cup and she drank it. Her body was demanding that she listen to him and lay back down. It craved rest, and when he brushed his fingers over her cheek, it craved his touch. She desired him and was appalled by him in equal measure. However, her mind knew which one had to win out. Her survival depended on it.

She set the tea cup down, and stood to face him.

“I can’t today; I need to go out. I have errands to run.”

“But your face…” 

“I can cover it up well enough. And I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rene sighed and stepped aside for her to make her way into the bathroom and do her best to fix her appearance. She couldn’t care less, but she had to be believable. If she couldn’t get a few hours headstart, she feared he would catch her. If he caught her, he would kill her.

“See, barely noticeable.” She presented her face with a smile. Rene grunted in response; he wasn’t thrilled, but he was letting her go.

Her mind flashed to the carpetbag under the bed, but it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t need anything in there more than she needed her freedom.

“All right then, goodbye,” she said casually as she picked up her purse and opened the door.

He stalked over to her and grabbed her around the waist from behind. She stiffened automatically, but forced herself to melt into him. It was the last time she would have to pretend for him. It was worth it. “I love you, Phryne cherie.” He kissed the back of her neck.

She pulled away gently. “I’m a little sore,” she said as she gestured at her ribs.

He nodded and left her to leave, making his way over to the kitchen table where his newspaper awaited.

Phryne walked out the door and pulled it shut behind her. At the sound of the click, tears flooded into her eyes. She clenched them closed tightly to hold them back. Now was not the time. She needed to ensure she could make it out of Paris, out of France, before she let herself feel anything.

On a train heading to Brussels a couple hours later, she rested her head against the windowpane and let the tears fall. She still loved him. She was breaking her own heart and she knew it. But it was better than allowing love to break her spirit, her body, and whatever might be left of her life. Every minute on the train, every second farther and farther from him hurt terribly, but it was a price worth paying. She made it and she was grateful. Things would be different now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Foyle and describes Phryne's time in his capture.

She had made a new life for herself in Melbourne. It was everything that she wanted it to be, but she couldn’t escape the fact that she had come back for Janey. She didn’t think she could keep carrying on without knowing what had happened to her sister.

When she burned Foyle’s letter, she thought she was giving that up, at least for now. It was for the greater good, but it would do little good for her peace of mind. 

When she learned that he was dead, incinerated in a foolhardy escape plan, she was relieved he got what he deserved. She didn’t expect to feel the anguish that came with the certainty of knowing that she would _never_ know.

When she found out he was still alive and plotting her death, and perhaps the death of her daughter alongside it, she was terrified. And even more so when she put together that Rhodes was in it with him, and Jack had run toward a trap.

After breaking out of the cell in City South, she rushed to the university with two thoughts in her mind. Saving Jane was first and foremost, she would give up everything to ensure her safety, and Jack’s too if he had indeed found himself in Foyle’s path. The only other was that she wanted her answers. This was a new chance, possibly her last, to find the truth.

Once in Foyle’s clutches, time passed quickly. Her mind raced trying to formulate an escape plan that would save them all. She was out of time when Foyle handed her the golden goblet and ordered her to drink first. She took it from his hands and knew this was her moment to find out what she needed to know. If he wouldn’t tell her now, on her way to her death, then there had never been any hope.

She asked, and finally, _finally_ he answered. His whispered words washed over her in waves. She felt the despair she had always felt when she thought of Janey’s death, but she also felt something akin to tranquility. He admitted to killing her sister, and told her where Janey had been ever since. It was enough. It was what she’d been fighting for. Her soul was free.

She knew she had to drink and so she did. There was no other option. If she died now, she would die feeling freer than she ever remembered feeling in her entire life. She could die having solved the mystery that had consumed her since she was a child. She would be laid to rest by Janey and be by her side forever.

It was the thought of Jane and Jack that drove her to continue fighting after drinking the drug. She had to do whatever she could to ensure their safety. She did the only thing she could think of: she turned the men against each other in just a few words and gained the upper hand over Foyle in her final moments of consciousness. Jack and Jane appeared just as the drug was taking its full effect and she stumbled over to them, letting her body give in. It couldn’t fight any longer. And it didn’t have to now that they had broken free.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains nothing but happiness and Jack! :D

Freedom had never come cheap for Phryne Fisher. She had spent her whole life fighting tooth and nail just to maintain autonomy over her own life. She valued everything she had: her house and car and clothes, her friends that were more like family, her career as a detective.

She also knew how easily it could disappear. It was why she held it all so tightly to her chest. Why she never gave more of herself than she was willing to lose.

Then came Jack.

It was nothing at first. Nothing different than the rest, although he seemed remarkably resilient to her flirting and teasing where weaker men would have subdued. Instead, it lingered. Irritation gave way to respect rather quickly, which grew into partnership and finally friendship. 

Perhaps it was the way he didn’t make her fight for her place beside him and their work together that did it. Once she had proven that she was determined to be a detective and do it well, he had relented any hesitation.

He’d let her be herself right from the beginning. He never once asked her to change for him; he scolded her when she apologized for doing things her way. He _liked_ her way. He liked everything about her because it made her who she was.

“What are you thinking about?” 

Phryne felt his fingers card through her short hair as her head rested on his chest. “Hmm?” she hummed.

“You’re somewhere else tonight.” He said it matter-of-factly, without the slightest hint of accusation.

She twisted around in the circle of his arms and gently plucked the book he’d been reading from his hands. His brows drew together in confusion as she placed it down on the chaise beside her.

“Have I mentioned lately how happy it made me to see you on that airfield?”

“Come to think of it, you haven’t.” He smirked at her in the way she knew meant he was holding back his full smile, trying not to give in all at once.

“I already knew that I loved you. But when you kissed me and then let me go off on my adventure, I knew we had a real shot.”

“There was no _letting_ you do anything. But I wouldn’t have stopped you if I could.”

She leaned in and kissed him soundly.

“What’s brought this on?” he asked after she pulled away.

Phryne shrugged. “We do all right, don’t we, Jack?”

“More than all right, I would say.”

“It’ll be ten years since that airfield tomorrow.”

Jack’s eyes widened slightly. “And you’re still happy? With this? Us?”

“I know I said I couldn’t promise forever…” 

“And I understand why. You are your own and no one else’s.”

“The thing is, Jack, I think perhaps I said that out of fear. I thought love like this would tie me down and take away everything I had fought so hard for. It has before.” Phryne’s eyes glistened as she stared into his and shared the realization that had been a long time coming. “It happens all too often and all too easily to women. I see it all the time.”

“As do I,” Jack confessed. “Our laws are not kind to your gender. It’s something I wish I could change.”

Phryne smiled softly and continued. “The difference is, none of those other men are you. Loving you… is its own kind of freedom. I have given up nothing of value and gained more than words can express. My heart may be mine, as is my mind and body, but they all sing for you. I am the best version of me when I am loving you.”

Jack grinned and caressed her cheek. “So that’s a yes then? You’re still happy with what we have?”

“Forever, Jack. I am sure now that I’ll be happy with this forever. I still can’t give you everything tradition wants of us, but I can give you forever with me, if you’ll take it.”

“I want everything that you want to share with me, Phryne. Nothing more and nothing less.”

She kissed him again and this time hands traveled and clothes slipped off and breath became short between them.

Jack paused one more time and drew her face up to his. “It’s the same for me. You gave me back myself when you found me worth loving. It’s a something that I’d thought I’d lost for good.”

Phryne understood and leaned back into him to show him. _For once_ , she thought, _freedom came without a price. Freedom beget freedom. It was magic, a myth, a miracle. It was nothing less than everything she had ever wanted. More than that, really, since she didn’t believe this possible. Jack Robinson was the best freedom. One that could only be freely given and never earned._


End file.
